Black and White
by KuraGonzalez
Summary: Looks like we'll be trapped for a while. [prompt fill]


I've had this on my laptop for ages and I finally managed to edit it. Erm, what can I say? I don't really like it but I don't know how to change it, so I'll post this to have it out of my head. Sorry for being so absent, I'm not writing at the moment to get my life back in order (good luck with that...) but I miss it terribly. Anyway, enough of my blabbering.

* * *

It's the first time in over a year that he booked himself a high-class hotel room instead of a very questionable motel because Ro is back home to spend his free days with his family and Dean thought he could pamper himself a bit for once. Waste some hard-earned money to celebrate his loneliness.

Sure, he could also fly back to Vegas but he's not in the mood to wander around in a too big, empty house; actually, he hasn't been in that mood ever since the scumbag stabbed them in the back. That fucker always hung out at his home, feigned to be his brother and friend, tainting that place for all eternity. Dean hates being there, which is why he's seriously considering just selling it. He wants to get rid of all the bad constantly haunting him there.

So, Dean thought he could get a massage, hit the in-house gym and destroy it – metaphorically speaking, he does have manners, contrary to popular belief – and relax in the sauna to get the memories of a certain sellout out of his system. Sweat it out, all the stifling pain and hurt that still clings to him after so many months. But of course he's not able to do any of these things. Story of his life.

It all goes downhill the moment the elevator doors are about to close and a very familiar hand holds them in place, someone he'd much rather throw down the Grand Canyon stepping into his safety zone with the words, 'Hold up.' This asshole's tone is all fake friendly until he looks in Dean's face.

Before either of them can walk out again, the doors shut behind Seth, trapping them in a suddenly too tiny metal room. This day just had to go from whatever to tremendously bad in zero seconds.

He rolls his eyes and his hands ball into fists on their own accord – a reaction his body got so used to that it happens whenever he sees the traitor. Dean isn't sure yet if he shouldn't just beat the living hell out of that coward and leave him in a puddle of his own blood, but then he thinks he's better than that and that he can survive a few seconds without committing a felony. Seth simply isn't worth it.

Dismantling that turncoat in the ring is not only fun but also part of his work. Attacking him now would probably only lead to a suspension. Or, in the worst case, to his firing. And as much as he loathes his Undisputed Champion, he _does_ love his job. Where else can he punch other people and get away with it? And let's not forget the paycheck he receives for that.

There's an enervated sigh – that fuckface has the audacity to act annoyed when he was the one squeezing himself into Dean's elevator? – that makes him clench his teeth.

Everything that hairless idiot does these days drives him crazy and makes him want to unleash every last ounce of hatred he has reserved only for his former business partner. Brothers, his ass. He was a fool to believe life bestowed him with some lasting happiness or that he could trust anybody.

Dean is getting in the mood to knock some teeth out of the sulking pile of scum in front of him when the elevator jumps a few inches and then comes to a halt in between floor seven and eight. Don't tell him they just stopped and won't move upwards for the next few minutes. Or even worse, fall down all the way. Why did he think a hotel would be better than a shabby one-storied motel?

And why didn't he go with Ro? No, he thought he should spend his free days in a five star establishment in bumfuck nowhere and have a great time. And now the only person he can't stand to even look at is caged with him in a goddamn stuck lift.

'Looks like we'll be trapped for a while,' _it_ says, sounding almost scared. Right, Dean forgot. Their fearless champ suffers from a severe case of claustrophobia. At least, if that wasn't just one of the many lies he told them. Dean'll never believe another word coming out of that ninja wannabe's mouth.

'Thanks, Captain Obvious,' he grunts back, suppressing the urge to bash the other's head against the walls. 'Why don't ya prove your superiority by being the first to push the little emergency button?' He knows how badly his ex-friend needs to be the smart one, so it's twice as funny to watch the asshole's mouth drop open when he understands Dean's sarcastic remark.

Without another word his once beloved baby brother – will it ever stop hurting when he calls him that? – punches on the red button in a fit of panic, growling desperately when nothing happens. Seems like the claustrophobia thing wasn't a lie then. Good.

'Prolly a power outage. It'll work sooner or later,' Dean states casually, sitting down to take off his leather jacket and use it as a pillow. He sure as hell won't spend his time in elevator-jail talking with his nemesis. Besides, there's nothing left to say.

'I know it will work again, thank you so much for your unnecessary input,' the turncoat barks back, walking the small cubicle up and down, obviously feeling the walls closing in on him. Seriously, his demise is a sight for sore eyes; Dean enjoys every second of it.

'Whatever, man,' is the last thing he intends to share, closing his eyes to not see that pisshead anymore – though it's useless. Has been over a year already. The other's image is etched in his memory. Normally, he uses it to fuel the rage, so he can keep making Bieber's life a living hell.

Looking back on the past year, that seems to be the only thing he's half decent at.

'Don't you dare take a nap now.' Or what? He can't do anything to him or he'll have to face a fine and a possible loss of his precious gold. They're not only stuck in here, they're also trapped in a weird, annoying forced truce and his adversary doesn't seem to take it as good as Dean. Oh, the irony.

He refuses to answer, just continues to shut the other's awful voice out, so he can indeed doze off. If he has to wait, he can also make the most out of this situation and escape the coward by entering the dream realm. Everything is better than watching that jerk slowly freak out.

No, wait. The fuck is he talking about? That's the best form of entertainment he'll have without his best friend. Dean doesn't open his eyes – not until Gollum is about to fly off the handle – but he stops trying to fall asleep.

'Stay awake, De– Ambrose.' Aw, is the little lamb so scared that it almost let Dean's name slip? Look at all the fucks he gives.

'I don't respond well to orders. Especially if slimy, sniveling bastards give them to me. I won't listen to you and if it were up to me, you could rot in here. I'd even eat you to save myself. Desperate times, blah blah.'

He can't see the dumbass' face but he can very well feel the anger and resentment crashing over him. That, and tons of genuine fear. If that idiot continues to work himself up like this, he'll have a full-blown anxiety attack and as much as Dean loves to watch the jerk suffer, he's not fond of having to calm down his former friend. There's not a single favor he wants to do for that dumbass. Not anymore.

Had he known that it was all just a fucking game, he'd never have let the other into his heart, wouldn't have shown him all his weaknesses or given him as much love as he was able to muster up. He was such a fool, let himself be used by the other. In the end, Seth was the biggest disappointment of his life.

'Ya could be useful for a change,' he adds, driving his point home, finally looking at the kid. Dean expected wrath and hatred in those Bambi eyes, but surprisingly, there's only disbelief and hurt to be found. It pains Dean more than he wants to admit; more than it should.

He doesn't know what possesses him when he asks, 'You okay?' It's apparent that nothing is fine – not only because they're locked up – but Dean has no clue what else to do.

His body wants to hug Seth close to him like in the good old times and he catches himself standing up. Only at the last moment he's able to stop walking up to the sellout.

'Lemme try it,' he mumbles softly, pushing Seth out of the way to make up for that and bang on the emergency button as if that'd help anyone. Dean can hear the forced, controlled breathing behind him, knows the attack is about to bring Seth to his knees if he won't do something about it. How come it's always up to Dean to stop them?

'Why did you do it?' he bursts out to distract his ex-brother, turning towards him, groaning enervated when Seth doesn't get what he's referring to. As if the betrayal doesn't bother him at all. 'The elevator was there,' the champ replies irritated, 'and I wanted to ride up to my room.'

Is he really that ignorant? How could Dean ever fall for such a person? 'Not that. Last June.' At least that dumbo has the decency to avert his gaze, shuffling shyly with his feet. Look at that. If there's no one backing him up, no prize to claim, no one to hit in the back with a chair, he's suddenly not so cocky anymore. Might also be cause he'd much rather claw his way through the doors to get outta here but Dean takes what he can get.

When Seth opens his treacherous mouth, Dean holds up a hand, shaking his head disappointedly. 'Know what? Don't. Wouldn't change a thing.' He's heard Seth's promos after the betrayal and even though he still doesn't get it – his brother could've just said _listen up, I wanna fly solo for a while, let's see who's the best_ , could've been a man but he didn't –, Dean is so done listening to flimsy excuses.

Nothing Seth could ever say will fill the void inside his chest. Things won't ever be the same again. Seth has ruined everything, _Dean_ , with his selfish actions.

'What do you need?' he changes the topic, cutting the liar off once more when the speaker rustles. Seth doesn't care about the hand in front of his face, already dashing towards him to all but scream into the assembly of small holes, 'Hello? We're stuck in the elevator. Get us out. Now.'

Dean can only stare at him in wonder, cause Seth seriously demanded that they both get rescued.

This is the first occasion the bastard didn't just think of himself and it completely blindsides Dean. He was dead sure Seth would make this all about his misery. That he sounds like the Seth Dean used to look at and smile warmly without even wanting to doesn't help at all. He can't slip back into the _why did he leave? I wish he'd come home_ phase. Dean wouldn't make it out of it a second time.

'Sir, we're having trouble getting the power back on but we're working on it as fast as we can. Please try to stay calm, there is enough air. If something should be the matter, just call me again. You are not alone,' a soothing, faraway voice explains but Seth only slams his fist on all the buttons angrily.

'Don't panic,' he apes the poor woman, 'I'm always here. Easy to say for someone who is not trapped with–' Good thing Catwoman stopped there, or else Dean would throw a fist or two. He doesn't need to hear that he's the last fucking person anyone wants to be stuck with in an elevator.

'Thanks, asshole. It's not exactly a pleasure spending my day off with you either.' Except that it kinda is? Fuck this shit. 'That's not what I meant,' Seth immediately babbles, shaky fingers running through his broken blond patch. In a moment of weakness, Dean grants himself a second to miss washing and bleaching his brother's hair, to braid it at night whenever he couldn't sleep. Ro always claps on his hands whenever he tries to touch his glorious mane.

'I can't be– I'm not–' Seth stammers around, hands flying through the air in a weird attempt to make himself more clear, but Dean only arches an eyebrow and sits back down to nip any attempt to jump, hug or bone Seth in the bud.

They'll get out of here in no time and continue their lives as bitter rivals. Seth will go back to be the spoiled brat he turned into – or that he's been all along, apparently – and Dean will tell himself that he still trusts Roman explicitly, which is a total lie by the way. He's been having major trust issues ever since last year's June. Seth broke him, shattered his soul, heart and faith all at once. He's in a constant state of feeling stupid for falling for that liar. Dean should've remembered the vows he did as a kid instead of discarding them because he couldn't say no to those puppy eyes. He's no good and everyone else is better off without him, and one day, Roman will realize that too.

'What? Suddenly Brag Queen hast lost all words? Just shuddup 'n wait. Can't do much anyway.' So nap time it is. He was a polite person and asked what his co-worker in trouble needed. If there's no answer Dean won't repeat his offer. Traitors only get one chance.

'Dean,' comes the hesitant plea and he snaps his eyes open, heart beating violently in his chest. 'Wow, you remember my name. And you even said it. Did it hurt? You need a shower now? I know how much you hate to say it.'

Seth is standing there, torn between running off sulking – which he can't – and breaking down to crawl over to him and beg for mercy until they're free again; just to act as if this had never happened.

'You know what to do.' True, yet he couldn't care less. He forgave him after _The Incident_ with the Wyatts and Seth managed to fuck that up royally. Dean doesn't owe him shit, so he should stop acting like he does. He's not the one who up and left without a word.

'I don't care. We're no longer associates. Ya wanted to do everything on your own, now you got the chance to. Freak out, piss yourself, climb outta here, I don't care, just do it all quietly. I wanna sleep till this is over.' He's being extra cruel, he knows, but otherwise he'd give in, ask one more time why Seth left him in the middle of them entering the stage of becoming more than brothers instead of simply dicking around after wins to celebrate and losses to cheer each other up or let go of all their frustration.

The jerk stays silent, yet Dean can practically feel him bite his bottom lip, inching closer until there's a warm body pressed to his side. He wishes he'd have the strength to push Seth away, to punch him square in the face for that but his whole being is just too thrilled to have him close. Ultimately, he gives in to this craving and lets Seth cuddle up to him. He's proud to say he's stiff as a board though. If Seth wants comfort, he'll have to beg for it.

'Don't move,' his former brother orders sternly, his voice however betrays him. It's nowhere near being authoritative or threatening. All in all, it just sounds utterly lost and forsaken. Don't tell him the dark side isn't as appealing as it used to be anymore.

'Stop touchin' me,' he grumbles back, knowing very well that Seth won't listen. He's as bullheaded as ever and for the first time in a while, it makes Dean want to grin instead of throwing up.

'You wanted to know what I need and the answer is– well, you. I–' Seth breathes in deeply, though the inhale is probably one of the hardest he ever had to force into his lungs. It takes a a lot of guts to admit, 'I'm freaking out here and you've always been the only one able to comfort me.'

So what? Is he supposed to feel sorry for him now? 'Then maybe you shouldn't have left me,' he hisses, too furious at this dipstick's brutal honesty. If it's only the two of them he suddenly can admit he fucked up but as soon as these doors open, he'll pretend this conversation never happened, cause apparently it's okay to use Dean as long as he's in need of a puppet or someone to guide him through a panic attack. Not with him, he won't accept this bullshit behavior anymore.

'And ya forgot to say please.'

Seth, awkwardly pressed to his side – Dean is surprised he hasn't tried to hug him yet cause that's what Seth does, taking what he wants –, lets out a sound that's half-desperate, half-delighted, resting his forehead on Dean's shoulder. The spot ignites itself immediately and his skin's burning in a really good way. He hates himself for yearning for another touch.

His wish comes true when Seth casually grabs his left hand to hold it in his own. Dean _loves_ it, which is why he clears his throat to grunt, 'What're ya doin'?'

Seth simply shushes him while trying to get his trembling fingers under control. Dean lets him get away with this, though he makes a show of acting like he'd much rather gauge Seth's eyes out. Why does it feel like being trapped in an elevator with this goober is the best damn thing that happened to him in the past year? And how come he's not pissed anymore?

Keeping the grudge alive, being furious all the time helped Dean get up in the mornings. Or, around midday. Disappointment though makes him forget the pain he went through – still struggles with, if he's being honest – and want to forgive Seth. He's so pathetically soft when this idiot is involved.

Dean has to do something or he'll kiss Seth breathless on the spot. Ro would laugh about him, and how he's not able to distance himself from the traitor.

No, he wouldn't. Roman would smile gently at them on the ground, relieved that the rough times are over. As dumb as Seth's actions sometimes have been, his best friend always made sure that Dean wouldn't throttle their little brother. He used to hold him back, urged him to listen before he passed judgment, no matter what despicable thing Seth had done.

Even now he would tell Dean to give it another try. Though he claimed that trust is dead to him, Ro firmly believes that one day _their_ Seth will return. As if he's being held prisoner in his own body and only needs to find a way to escape.

 _He's only nice to you as long as you're useful; just like in The Shield. He's using you and you let him._ Maybe cause he's tired of searching for his old friend, the person he opened his heart for. Perhaps it's cause he too has this last shred of hope, even though he knows he shouldn't.

'Feelin' better now?' he grumbles, tempted to act bothered and annoyed, when in reality all he wants to do is make sure this elevator won't move again until Seth stops being the snotty brat he is these days.

'No,' his ex-friend whimpers, sounding as if he's burning in hell – which he should be –, but also horribly conniving. He _is_ already over the worst and just lying for his own good to not have to stop this cuddling session. Like in the past, his scent and body warmth, his calm heartbeat was enough to calm Seth.

Dean wouldn't even mind the obvious lying, _if_ Seth would still be a part of his family. But he left in the worst way possible, only coming crawling back when he's in need of assistance.

'Well, I don't care. I say we're done here,' he mutters, freeing himself with a heavy heart, his whole being soaring in pain because all he wants is hold Seth close to his chest. 'Ya didn't even deserve that. In fact, the only thing you're entitled to is a beat down.'

He can do this without crumbling to pieces and begging Seth to come back to them, _him_. He's stronger than this.

'Dean, can't we just enjoy this moment?' Oh, seriously? He scrambles to his feet, throwing a hard glare at this asshole. ' _You_ of all people propose that? Tell me, is your ass ever jealous of all the shit comin' outta your mouth? Easy to say for the scum that left the only two guys in the world that would die for him.'

Fuck.

'That _would_ 've died for him,' he backpedals but it's already too late. Seth has heard it and judging by the wicked smile on his lips he's more than proud of the effect he still has on his former business partners.

'After everything I've done? Ambrose, Ambrose. You continue to only think with your heart.' Smooth motherfucker. Now he managed to make Dean feel uncomfortable and caged in this elevator. He wants to get out of here before his lips open again, yelling the words that brood inside of him for so long now and that he let out in the ring once or twice, when he couldn't control his emotions in the heat of the moment.

Later on, he claimed they slipped to hurt Seth, because Dean needed to get his heart broken in order to be able to finally admit his feelings. No one ever believed him, least of all Dean himself.

To not look at the once two-toned douche, he tries to pry the doors open with his bare hands to see if he can climb out of here. Falling down the shaft sounds like a good option too, but of course there's only a goddamn concrete wall staring right back at him. Fucking perfect.

'Thank you.' 'For what?' he growls, smacking his fist against the wall to not hit the kid, even though he deserves it.

He hears Seth getting up and turns away, longing to hear the answer while simultaneously wishing the dipstick would stay quiet. There's no answer but a hand is being placed on his shoulder and he detests himself for leaning into the touch like the desperate, lovesick fool he is.

'This ain't gonna change a thing,' Dean reminds himself, biting on the inside of his cheek when he bats the comforting fingers away. It's amazing and disgusting how much he wishes his former brother would disagree with him now, that – against all odds – everything will be as it once was and they could pick up where they left off.

'No,' his crush snickers and Dean feels like he's dying. He'd hoped so badly that Seth would try to talk him out of this, that the times of them being bitter enemies were finally over. But this isn't a fucking fairytale. Seth is gone and somehow Dean will have to deal with it. He has to face it, the man he fell for never existed in the first place.

The longer Seth laughs about Dean's stupidity, the angrier he gets. Ripping this fucktard's throat out with his fingernails sounds like a legit and easy way to make him shut up once and for all.

'Glad I could help you,' he spits out, the words burning his throat. Why is he still talking to that jerkface? No matter if it's a sarcastic remark or not, he should stop before he drowns in his own neediness. He's rarely been so disgusted by himself.

The chuckling fades away – thank God – and Seth shakes his head, the brown eyes showing mock sympathy. 'You still want to know why I did it? As if becoming Mr Money In The Bank and World Heavyweight Champion at Wrestlemania wasn't reason enough.'

He can't help it, he feels nauseous and his knees are about to give out. As casually as he can, Dean leans against the cold metal door, wishing the elevator would just fall down and kill them both before Seth mentions anything with the sole purpose of making fun of him. Seth catches every tiny detail of his mental breakdown – and wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? –, pride and arrogance making him cocky enough to forget that he's trapped in here.

Dean's about to hear something he won't be able to deal with. He's so goddamn dumb that he even considered for one moment asking for the truth, as if he could cope with the knowledge that Seth played him like a fucking fiddle.

'You want to know why, Deano?' Seth asks sweetly, sighing as if he reminisces about a particularly nostalgic memory. 'I had fun while it lasted, but–' 'Shuddup,' he brusquely cuts off the words that would definitely kill him, closing the already minimal distance between them to stare at Seth; the tips of their noses almost touching. It'd be so easy to kiss him right now. So fucking easy.

'I can't trust a single word you say. Oh, and if you ever get another panic attack, I hope you'll have someone with you who actually cares cause I sure as hell won't ever be so dumb 'n be in the same room with ya again. _You're dead to me_.'

Despite his superior smirk, Seth seems to falter a bit, swallowing hard, trying to not let Dean's cold demeanor and mean words get too close to him. Whatever hurtful thing he had wanted to throw at him, Dean easily bested him.

Suddenly there's a forceful jolt and the elevator moves again, both of them steadying themselves at the walls to not topple over and accidentally touch each other.

When the door opens, Seth grabs his stuff and dashes out of the lift, glad that he escaped the death contraption. And Dean. He turns around though, not even three steps into the hallway, the moment the doors glide shut once more, murmuring with impossibly sad eyes, 'I left because I have always been dead to you. No matter what I did, in the end you only had eyes for Roman. Always, _Ro this, Ro that_. I was so sick of it. Even if you hate me, at least now all you think about day and night is me and only me.'

Ya gotta be fucking kidding him.


End file.
